New York Fashion
by MGD
Summary: Blair has returned to New York to make her mark in fashion with N&G. In her success, she finds that shadows of her past played more of a role in her company than she ever knew. As the past unravels, Waldrof designs unravels. Plus some Chuck and Blair.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, again. This is the third installment of a series. The first story was Familiarity and the second was On a Dare. On a Dare was rated M, so this first chapter is a revised, T rated rehash of On a Dare. The story will pick up at Chapter Two. If you have already read On a Dare, skip this. If you didn't, this first chapter is the nuts and bolts of the last story in the series. I only write for my own amusement and hopefully yours, but I have no claim or rights on nothing.**

**This is a future fiction. Blair is in New York after spending three years in Paris establishing a clothing line with Lil' J. The present is set in 2015. It's mostly Chuck and Blair here. Others will come into play later on. Enjoy.**

"You always pick the best?" Blair mocked, "Who lost their virginity to Whorgina?"

"Who do you think chose your dress for tonight?" Chuck countered admiring his choice.

Blair looked down guiding her fingers gently over the sheer layers of her dress, "We are perfectly matched this evening."

"We perfectly match every evening," he slid his finger underneath the silk strap on her shoulder pulling out the strap of her slip.

"Don't get any ideas, Bass," Blair warned sternly as he pushed the strap till it fell off her shoulder.

"What are you wearing: tights, garters, or thigh-highs?" he began to slide other strap down her other shoulder.

"Chuck, we are not doing this here. Our mothers are inside," she turned around facing him. She supported her weight onto his shoulders as she peered into the hall searching for voyeurs. Chuck, thrilled with her new position in his arms, backed her against the balcony wall.

"It didn't stop you last time," he grinned moving closer to her cherry-stained lips.

"Everyone had left the last time!" she squirmed in his grasp.

"You are willing to fly to the moon in front of the cleaning staff but become Sister Prudence in front of our friends," Chuck half-inquired and half-stated.

"I was leaving. I was just being nice," Blair narrowed his eyes.

"Bullshit. You never turn down a dare," he smiled.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she closed the gap between them stopping just an inch from his nose.

"I dare you to come upstairs with me," he touched his nose to hers.

"Basstard," she teased before pressing her lips to his.

* * *

She placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling back against the wall of the balcony. Her eyes narrowed in a seductive glaze as she slowly wet her bottom lip with her tongue. Chuck was in a trance completely entranced by her sultry actions. He was ready to pounce as soon as she relaxed her grip on his shoulders. Keeping him at arm's length, she rubbed gentle circles into his muscle with her fingers. Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, "You wish, Lech."

Chuck contained a growl when Blair shoved him away from her. Turning around to face the city once more, she picked her martini off the edge of the balcony. After taking a sip, she pulled the straps of her slip, which Chuck had pulled down, back into place. She felt him slip a finger under her shoulder strap tracing the silk stem of the lingerie beneath her dress. He traced from the top of her shoulder down the open V-shape on the back of her dress. "I have the feeling I'm not the only one wishing," he admired the definition of her back muscles.

Blair turned to level him with a glare. Before she could retort, Serena opened the balcony door to announce the beginning of dinner. Chuck extended his elbow to lead her to the table.

**xoxo**

They approached an elegant table draped with a white linen tablecloth, gold-rimmed china at each of the twelve seats, and an arrangement of gardenia trees laced with mandevilla vines in the center. Chuck led Blair to her arranged seat between Eleanor and Serena. He helped her into her seat with the grace and flourish of a Victorian gentleman. Then, he blocked Serena from her seat with the subtlety of a rampaging rhino. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he directed Serena to his seat across the table and next to Nate. However, Serena proved to be unusually sturdy in her four inch heels not budging an inch. At this, Chuck responded more insistently with a polite shove. While Serena was distracted trying to maintain her balance, he darted smoothly into her chair. After leveling a glare at him, Serena begrudging walked around the table to the empty seat.

When Blair noticed that her best friend was sitting across from her, she leaned over and hissed at Chuck, "Serena is supposed to be next to me."

Chuck smirked picking up the name card with Serena written on it in intricate curves. He turned to face Blair making sure she could see the card as he threw it over his shoulder. He smiled brazenly, "Oops. It must have been a mix up." Blair narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before returning to the conversation with Cyrus and her mother.

As the dinner courses began to appear, Genevieve and Nicolette took center stage at their table regaling their friends and families with stories of conquest and fashion innovation. As Jenny told a humorous horror story of a lost masterpiece during fashion week last season, Blair took in the strange gathering of folks at their table. To her right was the upper echelon, old bluebloods and powerful money. To her left was the humble crowd, forever dubbed as Brooklyn and Co. Then, there was Chuck. He was powerful money without question, but his tact was about as subtle as Cabbage Patch's commentary on the unfair favoritism lavished on the wealthy (despite his longtime insider status among the UES circle).

When the dinner course was cleared, Chuck had his first opportunity to strike. He rested his hand on Blair's knee fingering the delicate material of her tights. Testing her boundaries, he slowly slid his knuckles along the outside of her thigh a few inches beneath her dress. Blair never lost her stride adding a crucial detail to the story that Jenny told. Satisfied, Chuck started at her knee and lightly dug his fingertips into her inner thigh as he moved higher up her leg. His efforts were thwarted by a spiked heel.

"Ow! That hurt!" he thundered in Blair's direction. Everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to him. For a second, he glared at the onlookers rubbing the injured leg. Sitting up, he adjusted his jacket addressing the crowd, "My apologizes. I accidently ran my leg into the bottom of some innocent girl's shoe. Only seems fitting considering my reputation."

"I'm sure every man at this table has earned his fair share of female induced injuries," Cyrus joked earning forced laughs from around the table. Ironically, Serena, Dan, and Nate rolled their eyes and scoffed in perfect sync. This earned a genuine laugh from Eric and Jenny. All the former attendees of St. Jude's/Constance gave suspicious looks at Blair, who looked as innocent as a wide-eyed five year old caught with mud on their shoes on a freshly polished floor.

"So…" Jenny picked up from where her story had been interrupted.

Chuck looked over at Blair, who flashed him a brief smug smile. He took this as an issued challenge. Aiming for a safer area, Chuck caressed the supple skin of her forearm very gently and softly. When he eyed the dessert course coming out, he lewdly whispered in her ear, "We should take the dessert upstairs. You can lie in bed eating cake while I nibble on you." At the end of his suggestion, he pressed his finger in the bend of her elbow, which caused Blair to purr audibly as her eyes fluttered shut.

She could feel eleven sets of eyes focused on her even before she opened her eyes, ten confused and one bastard. When she looked up at the table, she immediately sought an escape route. Spotting her empty martini glass, she grabbed it. "Excuse me. I need to refresh my drink," she claimed standing from her seat and running straight into dish of cake carried by the server.

Chuck took the chocolate cake smeared across her chest as an omen. He quickly admonished the waiter while discreetly slipping him a tip. Blair was mentally counting to ten trying not to scream at the waiter. "Pardon us. I'll take our honored guest to go get cleaned up," Chuck grabbed Blair, her clutch, and a slice of cake steering them towards the exit.

"Get off of me, Basshole," she hissed trying to dig her heels into the floor.

"Let go, Waldrof. No one expects us to come back. You might as well let me _relax_ you," Chuck spoke of promises pushing her to the elevator.

**xoxo**

It took some effort, but Chuck was able to wrangle a flustered Blair Waldrof into the elevator. She ripped her purse from his hands with fury burning in her eyes. He grew antzy when he realized how agitated she was. He held up a dish, "I remembered the cake."

"My cake," Blair yanked the cake out of his hands. Her eyes narrowed into a glare, and her lips set in a pout. She backed up to the other side of the elevator. Chuck stalked towards her with a predatory look. He placed his hands on the bar on either side of his prey trapping her between his arms. Surveying her body, he decided which piece to feast on first. With a cocked smile, he moved closer, "My dessert is right here."

He leaned down and licked a chocolate rose that was smeared just above her collarbone. Hearing Blair release a deep sigh, he continued his tasting running his tongue along the clavicle. For a minute, she allowed his advantages. Leaning her head back against the wall, she opened her throat to his bite. After she contemplated their surroundings a moment later, she stiffened throwing him off her.

"We're not doing this, Bass. Once I'm decent again, we are returning to the party," she insisted trying to calm her rapid breathing.

"Soiree," he corrected her, "With any luck, we won't leave that suite for a week." He tried to prowl in on his prey again. Blair stopped him with a hand to the chest. She wrapped her hand around his tie pulling him down to her eye level.

"Listen to me, Charles Bass," her hand tightened on his tie. Suddenly, she gasped, "Chuck…"

Her grip on his tie loosened. Once she had it free from his dinner jacket, she turned it over finding what she suspected. There on the underside of his tie was her heart pin. It rested directly above his own. Blair re-tightened her grip on his tie dragging his lips to hers.

Blair explored every surface of his mouth that she could with her lips and tongue. Running out of air, Chuck pulled away to judge her reaction. The hard look had melted away leaving a soft, impassioned Waldrof.

Blair scooted back to rest on the wall. She fluttered her eyelashes with a wicked smile on her lips. The expression unhinged Chuck, who resumed eating his cake. His tongue moved lower into the front cut of her dress retrieving chunks of dessert lost beneath the silky layers. He stilled his ministrations when he felt her body press into his.

"Slow down, Waldrof," Chuck commanded as she pulled him back towards her.

"I want you, now," she emphasized.

"There are cameras in the elevators," he groaned.

"I don't care," she replied pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

"You will if our sex tape ends up on Internet. Neither of us need that," he pulled back stopping her hands.

The elevator finally came to a halt on the eighteenth floor. Blair reached for Chuck's tie. She dragged him off the elevator towards his suite.

"Move it, Bass," she swayed her hips in a hypnotic walk that Chuck followed enthusiastically.

**xoxo**

While Chuck was literally dragged by the collar to his suite, he settled his hands onto Blair's hips. His head was slightly tilted watching the embellished rhythm of her walk. When they reached the door marked 1812, he swiftly pulled a key from his jacket pocket. Blair grasped his tie one more time for a passionate kiss before entering the devil's den.

"I got you," she giggled after he whisked her inside the suite.

"Always did," he confessed wrapping her up in his arms to properly return her kiss.

"True, but that's not what I meant. You have chocolate icing all over your jacket and shirt," she admonished a bit but with humor in her voice.

"All the more reason to get out of these clothes," he said over the sound of her zipper lowering.

"Down Bass! I still have dessert to eat," she strolled over to the mini-bar. Her dress pooled at her feet by the second step. Shifting onto one of the bar stools, she crossed her legs facing him. The black slip covering her thighs inched up to reveal the black garters that she had kept hidden all evening. She moaned in delight when a small bite of delectable chocolate touched her tongue.

Chuck had been watching her little scene unfold with an amused expression. Blair always claimed to be the subtle seductress. Right now, she was oozing sex; she always burned around him, fiery and untamed. The thought brought out a proud smirk. That was until he saw garters. The condescending smile dropped into a look of longing. He didn't entirely succeed in suppressing a growl as his eyes stared like a hawk moving in on its prey. He charged; all patience lost.

Blair stalled his charge by blocking his path with her heel. Chuck immediately seemed to relax taking her leg in his hand and running it down the silky surface. He stopped when he reached the edge of her tights playing with soft bare skin just above them. She looked at him coquettishly. She requested, "Close your eyes and open your mouth."

He tasted the sinful delights of sweetness filling his mouth. "Delicious but not what I had in mind," he eyed her lithe form, "I want you for dessert."

Blair gulped. She felt his hot breath an inch away from her ear as he spoke. Her eyelids closed in anticipation of his attack.

After a moment, she flipped one eye open to see what delayed her pleasure. Chuck was digging out a vibrating phone. He gave her a regrettable pleading look before answering the phone. His voice proved ruthless and angry while he addressed his assistant. Blair shrugged her shoulders and went back to her cake.

A few minutes later, Blair finished her dessert, and Chuck was still on the phone. At least, he was rearranging his schedule to spend the next morning with her. Blair poured three fingers of scotch into a tumbler and set it before Chuck, who had settled on the couch. He sighed looking at her scantily clad body and mouthed that it would only take a few more minutes. She mouthed for him to take his time taking the seat next to him. Divesting him of his chocolate-stained shirt and jacket, she glared at him every time that he pinched her inappropriately.

Escaping his roving hands, Blair gathered her dress off the floor and called room service. Safely clothed in his spare robe, Blair handed off their clothes to the attendee while giving instructions for breakfast. She thought of champagne, but Chuck had enough alcohol to inebriate a small flotilla inside his suite. When she turned back to Chuck, he was pacing around the table whispering curses about some business deal. Positioning herself in his line of sight, she opened the robe and ran her fingers along the lace bodice. Chuck held up his index finger continuing to rant into his phone. Blair huffed drawing the robe closed and stomping from the room.

She stormed into the bathroom debating whether she should slam the door or not. Deciding that it was undignified, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. A pang of sadness hit her when Chuck did not follow right after her. Looking down on the counter, she was stunned to discover a spare toothbrush on the right side of the sink. Next to the toothbrush was her brand of toothpaste, facial cleanser, moisturizer, lotion, anti-frizz serum, gel, makeup, and natural hair brush. Spying in the shower, she found the shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and loofah that she used. It was like she had never left the suite three years ago. Yet, everything was new. He didn't forget her brands, what made her skin smooth or how she smelled. Blair opened the top drawer to find it empty, ready to hold her things. After arranging everything how she like it, she pulled off the robe and threw it on the tub. Then, she picked up the hairbrush and waited for Chuck to come to her.

**xoxo**

Chuck leaned against the doorway of his bathroom. He watched as Blair drew the marble-handled brush through her voluminous curls. She looked lost in her own reflection. Choosing to remain silent, he took pleasure in being able to watch her again. They would see each other everyday now; he could enjoy seeing her little quirks and daily rituals like brushing her hair for a hundred strokes.

"Sorry about that Waldrof," he finally alerted her to his presence.

"It's okay. I understand," she sighed.

"Blair, you're pouting. Nothing good ever came when you pout like that. I should know since I've been on the receiving side a few times," he demonstrated his Blair expertise.

"That's not why I'm pouting. I'm not pouting!" she refuted sticking out her tongue at his reflection.

"I can think of better places to put that," he snickered with a deep rumbling chuckle, "You're pouting, again." He dared to take a few steps closer to her.

"I just remember when things were easier for us. Neither one of us can slip away for a day anymore with companies to run. We can't ignore our phones when someone urgent calls. We can't fly away at a moment's notice to Europe or some exotic locale. Who knew Chuck Bass and Blair Waldrof would grow up and have responsibilities?" she enlightened him about her mood.

"Especially Chuck Bass," he joked standing behind her with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants.

"I guess I just miss those wild carefree days when you struggled to keep your hands to yourself," she put the brush down on the vanity, "It feels like the excitement and unpredictability of those days is gone." She twisted her hair into a low ponytail.

"Stop wallowing, Waldrof. I have the entire morning off for the first time in two years," he rumbled growing tired of her melancholy, "And never ever doubt that I can ravish you anywhere or anytime."

"I count on it," she confessed coyly picking up a clip for her hair. Chuck went quiet and wide-eyed at the vision of her neck. Like a shot, Chuck pulled her back against his chest. His hands had a firm grip on her upper arms while his nose nuzzled the nape of her neck. After deeply inhaling her scent, he lavished wet open-mouthed kisses along the milky white column. Blair smiled smugly, "It's nice that some things never change."

**xoxo**

Blair opened her eyes and rubbed her nose into his neck deeply inhaling the faint scent of aftershave. Chuck lay on his back with Blair sprawled on top. He held her tightly with his arms wrapped around her waist, and their legs tangled together. His right hand traced the ridges and dips of each vertebrate along her spine.

"You know you still haven't taken me to bed," Blair chided teasingly. She rested her chin on her hands that rested on his chest. Her playful mood shone in her eyes.

"Who jumped who?" Chuck replied running a hand through her hair.

"You were supposed to catch me. Not drop me like a sack of potatoes," she reprimanded.

"Have you ever seen a sack of potatoes?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes! Dorota keeps one in the pantry somewhere," she responded indignantly.

"Okay, Princess," Chuck obliged her claim sarcastically, "Next time jump after you pushed me against the bed. If you do it before, we'll end up on the floor again."

"I may have been a bit over zealous," she admitted innocently.

"A bit over zealous? You jumped me before we hit the ground," his look of disbelief changed in a wicked smirk, "You didn't even notice when we hit the ground."

"You definitely weren't complaining at the time," she glared.

"I never said that I didn't enjoy it," Chuck leered.

**The next morning…**

Blair awoke hearing persistent knocks on the door. Breakfast had arrived. Wrestling her body free from Chuck's grasp, she hunted for something to cover her naked body. The only thing she found was the pajamas that she tore off of him in the middle of the night. Buttoning up the shirt, she rushed to open the door. She sighed and greeted, "Hi, Nate."

**New York, Plaza, Suite 1812, May 12, 2009**

"Nate," Blair shrieked tugging Chuck's button-down shirt lower. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and she wasn't wearing underwear. It hadn't even been two full weeks since they broke up. Here she was, practically naked in his best friend's suite. Why did she have to have a sudden domestic urge and answer the door?

She turned towards the bedroom alcove when she heard Chuck laughing. He said that it was room service when she asked about visitors. _Damn Bass!_ He was deriving some delayed gratification reaction from the obvious statement that Blair Waldrof was finally his. The fact that it happened in front of Nate only sweetened the moment of conquest.

Turning back to Nate, she was shocked to see him laughing, too. The grin on his face made her stomach knot. That grin was not natural for the easy-going persona of Nate Archibald. In fact, the only place that Nate could learn to grin that wickedly was from the devil or Chuck Bass. He joined Chuck by the bar leaving Blair by the open door.

"Chuck," Nate acknowledged.

"Nathaniel," Chucked greeted in reply.

"Taking a go at another one of my sloppy seconds," Nate said in a loathsome tone.

Chuck assessed his friend for a moment. He grinned clearly unaffected by the comment, "I'll admit to the go with Brooklyn girl. I can appreciate why you and my dear sister went slumming. As far as my girlfriend is concerned, I was her first and will never be second. You're the one that had two go's with my sloppy seconds when it comes to Waldrof."

Chuck cried out in pain. Blair pulled his head back digging her talons into his scalp. She looked absolutely pissed. It made him smirk. He reprimanded in jest, "Play nice in front of company, dear. You can play mistress later."

His words made Nate frown and turn a little green, "I think I get what Serena meant when she said that you guys are disgusting but sweet together, except for the sweet part."

"Sloppy seconds?" Blair asked glaring first at Nate before looking at Chuck. She tightened her grip on his hair when his grin grew wider. Nate gulped when he saw her fury directed at him. His past position had protected him from the wrath of Constance's former Queen. Now, he knew why people cowered before her. It was disturbing how Chuck seemed to only grow more delighted as she grew angrier.

"That's what you call someone who sleeps with a friend after you did," Chuck responded innocently.

"You are a nauseating asshole," she kicked his leg and released his head. She stomped into the bathroom slamming the door behind her.

"So, you finally told her that you loved her," Nate sought confirmation.

"Yeah," Chuck looked longingly at the bathroom door.

"Blair Waldrof is your first girlfriend," Nate stated reflectively, "Another thing we have in common."

"Any advice?" Chuck asked.

"You'll figure it out," Nate said with a smile, "Just remember to pay attention. Blair is _very_ particular."

"If there is anything on earth I know, it's Blair Waldrof. Outside, inside, and upside down," he smirked, "Why are you looking for me, Archibald?"

"I'm going to Europe," Nate answered, "with Vanessa."

"Interesting," Chuck replied, "Want to talk over brunch."

"Yeah," Nate nodded, "What about Blair?"

"We'll meet you in the bar in awhile. I need time to coax her down," he waggled his eyebrows.

"Let's meet for dinner," Nate looked slightly disgusted.

"Eight?" Chuck asked.

"Sounds good. See you later, man." Nate headed towards the door.

"Nathaniel," Chuck closed the door after him. He immediately went to the bathroom door to work on his girlfriend.

**New York, Plaza, Suite 1812, September 15, 2015**

"Blair," Nate smiled widely at the familiar predicament, "Chuck and I had plans for lunch."

"Come in. I'll go get him," she said leaving the door open for him.

"I'm surprised you stayed here last night. I guess the apartment was too far away," he smirked.

Blair turned around confused, "Apartment?"

"Yeah, I went to the apartment first. I figured that he was here with you when nobody answered. It would have been nice if he called and told me. Save me a trip."

"Chuck has an apartment," Blair still sounded confused.

"Of course, he does. Did you expect him to live in a hotel suite the rest of his life?" Chuck asked amused.

"He wouldn't even discuss getting a place a few years ago," she replied lost in her memories.

"Even Chuck Bass can change," Nate moved pass a stationary Blair towards the bed.

**xoxo**

Blair had on ear on the conversation between Chuck and Nate while he read the morning paper. Her body angled towards Chuck. Nate sat across from Chuck at the small table recalling all details from gossip to actual business that he heard in the Senator's office. Chuck sipped coffee filtering through Nate's words. He was leaning forward, so he could rest his hand in Blair's knee.

Occasionally, his hands would ride up her thigh. Blair stopped his wondering fingers, pushed it back onto her knee, and patted his hand twice. She did this all without looking down or losing her spot in the paper. Chuck was eyeing her out of the corner of his eye.

When Nate and Chuck finished their weekly roundup, they stood from the table. Blair gave Nate a kiss on the cheek. Chuck saw him to the door bidding Nate a pleasant day. Once the door closed, he was on Blair.

"You sat though breakfast without underwear," he growled in her ear.

"So? You love it when I do that," she said nonchalantly.

"Not in front of company and especially not in front of Nathaniel," he held her close to his body. He stood with his chest pressed into her back. His hands securely held her shoulders.

"Don't you think this jealous act is getting old?" she pulled free of his grip and went to the window.

"And whose fault is that? I still haven't erased the memories of all those model bastards that touched you in France," the anger simmering in his voice.

"How did you …you prick! You spied on me!" she yelled back at him, "Like you've been a monk."

"True, I haven't," he said calmly, "But I had to bite my tongue every time not to call out your name."

"You think that makes it easier. That it changes the fact that you took whores home to your apartment while I had to settle for a hotel room," she tore free of his hands.

He smirked, "I never would have made it to the apartment with you. I had enough trouble not taking you in the elevator or on the balcony."

"You think that I would have. The limo was close enough," she huffed in a rare moment of honesty. At first, his eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed seductively a moment later.

"I had the bedroom refurbished a month ago. You could help me christen the bed," he took her hand brushing the knuckles with his lips, "and the chaise and the blanket chest and the corner reading chair."

"Mmm," she thought aloud, "Where to start?"

**xoxo**

"Top floor, Princess" Chuck slipped a keycard in her hand. Blair inserted the keycard and the button for the penthouse. Chuck squeezed her shoulder, and she turned facing him with an excited smile. When the door binged open, she raced into the space.

She went from room to room. Taking in each detail of every room, she critiqued each space with a scrutinizing eye. After her inspection, she walked back into the living room, where Chuck lounged on the couch with a scotch.

"A bit masculine but not bad, Bass," she responded looking over the room.

"This is just the beginning, Waldrof," he jugged the rest of his scotch. He set his glass down and put his sights on her. Stalking towards Blair, he pulled his tie loose. Grabbing her hips, he backed her up towards the bedroom.

*************************************Blair rested on her belly as Chuck drew curvaceous designs on her back.  
"You enjoyed that," he smiled.

"Shut up, Chuck," she quieted him.

"I'm just stating the obvious," he said arrogantly.

Blair sighed and rolled away. She perched on the edge of the bed looking for her garments. Chuck responded in alarm, "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," she went to pick up her clothes.

"Why?" he asked sitting up.

"It's eleven. I have a meeting with my lawyer at one about relocating here from Paris," she answered.


	2. Surprises from your Lawyer

**Waldrof-Rose Penthouse, September 15, 2015 1p.m**

Blair stopped at the top of the winding marble staircase and grinned slyly. Slowly, she descended the stairs in a lush wool suit that hugged the curves of her figure. The style and cut of the suit was reminiscent of a turn of the century riding habit, specifically made for princesses of the age, but modernized. She had Jenny make it for her specially. It was her power suit.

"Ms. Waldrof, it is pleasure to see again in our fine city," replied Jonathan Weathersby, her lawyer and an old friend of her father's.

"Thank you, Jon. You are too kind," she returned his kind greeting with a rare genuine one of her own. Taking his stretched out hand, she allowed him to lay a gentle kiss across her hand.

Jon was a man of old world habits-holding doors open for women, sending flowers to clients on birthdays, and taking off his hat in the presence of company. Blair always felt like a queen from her favorite black and white films when she had meetings with him. He led her towards the center table in the foyer, where his briefcase was placed.

"I have all the paperwork you requested," he smiled.

"Wonderful," she stood calmly, but the joy clearly danced in her eyes.

"Jacqueline Rousseau will be the President of European Operations. The store in the Latin Quarter will be converted back into a place where upcoming designers can showcase their work.

Once you sign the closing documents, you will own the six building east of French store. The brick shop is being converted into an atelier as you requested. Plus the closing on your Soho space is next Wednesday." Jon swiftly caught her up on all the legal proceedings of the company.

"Brilliant," Blair took the pen that he offered her ready to start the newest phase for her company. With a flourish, she signed each document cementing her future.

When she finished signing and initialing in each designated space, she handed Jon back his pen. Extending her hand to shake his, she saw that he was not done with their business as he pulled another file from his case. She dropped her hand to her side covering her surprise.

"There is just one more thing. A client wanted me to handle a little item for her," Jon informed Blair as he held out the file to her.

"What is this?" she asked suspiciously.

"When we originally drew up the contracts for N&G, your father was the primary investor putting up 90% of the total capital to start the company," Jon recalled the original plan, "In actuality, there were two other silent partners who gave your father investment capital for your company. Each partner gave one-third of the initial 90% capital."

He paused for a moment giving Blair time to absorb the information. She clutched the file until her knuckles went white. She cut to the chase sensing ill will, "What do they want?"

"Always very perceptive," he commented, "If you go over the original agreement, you will see that your father agreed to keep the names of the partners silent and return their percentage of the investment as the company gained revenue. This particular partner wants to walk away signing her shares directly over to you."

"What idiot would give up their shares in a company that is going public in three months with the potential of being a multibillion dollar company within the year?" she exclaimed flabbergasted.

Closing his briefcase, Jon grinned, "You would know better than I, Ms. Waldrof, considering the woman is your mother. In that file, you will also find the papers that name you the owner and president of Waldrof Designs. This is where I say my goodbyes, Ms. Waldrof. Good luck."

Waiting for the elevator to ding in departure, Blair screamed at the top of her lungs, "Dorota!"


End file.
